Evil Dead, The Series 08: "The Fandom Menace"
by OmarSnake
Summary: Ash uncovers the true motives of George Lucas


TEASER FADE IN

as end credits roll.

We pull back to reveal ten rows of seats, in front of a screen on which the aforementioned end credits are rolling. We are in a screening room, somewhere in California. The lights go up.

Sitting in the front row of the theater are a group of four men, most of them middle aged-plus, and quite a few of them bearded. They watch the credits with cold, analytical eyes.

A few rows back are three young men, whooping and hollering enthusiastically. One has red curly hair and a baseball cap worn backwards; the second is a college student of Korean heritage, with a UCLA sweatshirt and 'Lennon' glasses; the third is a lanky stoner-dude with a scraggly goatee and uncombed brown hair.

The men in the front row look back at them.

One is a stocky man with greying hair and a beard to match, and wears a plaid shirt. Beside him is a skinnier bearded man, about the same age, with glasses and a colorful Hawaiian shirt.

"Your fans, George," the skinnier man ways with a sly grin, "gotta love 'em."

"That was AWESOME, Mister Lucas!" the Korean youth says.

"Killer!" the red-haired youth adds.

"I want ta see it again!" the lanky stoner dude cries.

George Lucas stands up, stretching his legs. "I'm glad you boys were able to take time out from your classes to attend this sneak preview..."

"Are you kiddin', man, I woulda skipped heart surgery to be here!" the stoner dude says.

Lucas smiles and turns his attention to the men who were sitting in the front row with him.

"If they're any indication, you're gonna make a billion dollars," Martin Scorsese says as he cracks his knuckles.

"You've done it again," Ron Howard adds as he pulls on his baseball cap.

"I've seen it three times, and it gets better each time," the skinnier bearded man, Steven Spielberg, says. "Though last time we watched it, Tarantino and Rodriguez got too rowdy."

"Tell me about it," Lucas says as he walks the three other directors to the exit door. "I'd like to thank you all again for coming."

"No problem," Spielberg says.

"Now, if you'll excuse me, I want to discuss something with these young men," Lucas says.

"You got it, Georgey," Scorsese says with a wink.

They head out the door. Lucas turns to the three young men.

"CAN we watch it again, sir?" the red-haired youth asks.

George Lucas strokes his chin. "Well, I was actually hoping I could get you three to screen a special I've made for Fox, 'Secrets of the Phantom Menace'... It'll air a week after the movie premieres, and has plenty of behind-the-scenes footage and outtakes..."

"That would rule!" the stoner dude says.

The other youths nod enthusiastically.

"I'm glad you feel that way," Lucas says as he snaps his finger. "Wally!" He yells up at the projection room window at the back of the theater. "Run the 'Secrets' reel, if you please."

The lights dim, and Lucas excuses himself from the theater as the three youths settle back in their seats.

A few minutes later, the door at the back of the projection booth opens and Lucas enters. 

The projectionist, Scorsese and Howard are all in the room, wearing mirrored sunglasses as they look out through the window into the theater. Howard flings a pair of shades to Lucas, who slips them on and joins the others.

"Well, what's the verdict?" Lucas asks.

Below them, the three youths are waving their arms eagerly as the screen shows a light saber duel.

Suddenly, the Korean youth grabs his head. The others do likewise. Veins throb on the sides of their heads, and their eyes bulge. The stoner dude screams, repeatedly, panicked, and flails back across the seats.

He bursts into flames, as do the other youths.

After a moment, their screams die down.

"Looks like a hit to me," Ron Howard says with a diabolical grin as we...

FADE OUT.

OPENING CREDITS ROLL.

A collection of a fast-paced montage of clips from the Evil Dead Trilogy, with the following narration by Bruce Campbell: "My name is Ash, and I fight the forces of evil. I didn't ask for the job, I didn't want the job, and I can't get rid of the job. Lucky me."

The screen goes to black, and bright red blood streams down the screen, forming a logo that reads "Evil Dead: The Series"

.

. ACT ONE

TITLE CARD: "The Fandom Menace"

FADE IN

as Ashley J. Williams claws his way back into the stock room of S-Mart.

Behind him, on the sales floor, a frenzied mob tears into boxes of "Star Wars" merchandise, grabbing action figures, model kits, Lego sets, and so on.

One of the sales clerks, a pretty girl with straight brown, waist-length hair, helps Ash to his feet.

"It's a madhouse," Ash says as he rubs the back of his head, "A madhouse!"

"Where's Teddy?" another clerk asks.

"Out there," Ash says. "Trying to keep people from breaking our 'Ten Items Per Customer' rule. The crazy bastard."

"We shall sing songs about his noble death," another clerk, this one a heavy-set black youth, says. 

"I'll be glad when this damned movie is out and over with," Ash sighs, rolling his eyes.

CUT TO:

Ash drives through stop-and-go traffic. An unusual warm spell, combined with a broken air conditioner, is making Ash even crankier than usual. He looks over at a movie theater, and sees Star Wars fans camped out waiting for opening day.

Ash rolls his eyes and groans.

CUT TO:

Ash plops down on his couch and flicks on the TV set. 

"Welcome to day five of Full Force Coverage here on Entertainment Tonight!" Julie Moran squeals.

Ash flicks the TV set back off, rolls his eyes, and groans.

He goes through his mail. "Bill... bill... bill... aw, come on, Star Wars is on the cover of Newsweek???"

Then his phone rings.

"Yo," he says, picking up the receiver.

There is a momentary pause. "Is this Mister Williams?" a whispering voice asks.

"If you're a creditor, no. If you're a telemarketer, hell no. Otherwise, yeah. Whaddaya want?"

"I need to meet you, Mister Williams." the voice replies.

"Sorry, pal, you don't sound like my type."

"This is serious, Mister Williams," the voice says. "It involves an invocation from the Necronomicon Ex Mortis..."

Ash arches an eyebrow.

CUT TO:

A parking deck. Ash parks and gets out, looking around. It is late at night, and parts of the deck are bathed in shadow. "Hello?" he asks cautiously, reaching into the car to pull out his supply bag.

A ways down, the headlights on a car almost completely hidden in darkness flash twice, then go dark again. Ash heads that way, slinging the bag over his shoulder and rummaging through it. A shadowy figure emerges from the car. 

"I am sorry for the secrecy, Mister Williams," the figure says, "But believe me, when I say this is all necessary--"

Ash holds up a flashlight, shining it on the now not-so-shadowy figure.

It is Steven Spielberg, Hawaiian shirt and all. He flinches.

"I recognize you," Ash says. "You're that guy who founded Microsoft or something, right?"

"Wrong," Spielberg sighs. "But who I am isn't important. I've come to get your assistance in keeping a spell from being cast.... say, isn't your hand supposed to be a chainsaw?"

"I only wear that for special occasions," Ash says. "And who told you about it, anyhow?"

"This loser named Raimi I talked with back when I was looking for a director for 'Flintstones 2: Viva Rock Vegas'," Spielberg replies. "He'd read about you, and was itching to make a movie about your exploits. But enough about him, I need your help with a break-in."

"Break-in?" Ash asks. "Hey, pal, I'm not exactly the king of thieves here."

"The break-in involves a heavily-fortified outpost which may be guarded by demonoids from the nether realms."

"In that case," Ash says, walking back over to his car and opening the trunk. "Maybe I should carry Little Bessie here after all." He pulls out a gleaming new chainsaw, with a jet black base and shiny steel chain. "So, where IS this outpost, anyhow?"

CUT TO:

A private plane streaks across the sky. On the side of the jet is the painted silhouette of ET the Extraterrestrial riding in the basket on the front of a bicycle.

Inside the plane, Steven Spielberg and Ashley Williams sit at the windows, looking out at the passing scenery.

"Now, let me get this straight," Ash says. "We're flying to California to break into Skywalker Ranch, home of multi-gazillionaire George Lucas...."

Spielberg nods.

"And we have to steal a videotape?" Ash asks.

"Not just any videotape," Spielberg explains, "the master tape of a Fox special he's produced."

Ash cocks an eyebrow. "When Demons Attack?"

"Secrets of Star Wars," Spielberg replies.

"Oh, in that case I'll definitely help you destroy it," Ash says. "But why? Jealous that they don't make action figures for the 'Saving Private Ryan' characters?"

"You have to understand," Spielberg says, almost whispering. "George Lucas is a wizard in the cult of a demon named Al Etek Karzza. He sold his soul to get the financing for the first "Star Wars" movie, and Karzza has guided its success in the decades since then. Now, it's time for George to repay him."

"Well, he's already getting George's soul, isn't he?"

"The soul of a movie producer?" Spielberg scoffs. "Talk about not getting much meat on the bone... No, Karzza wants a night of blood."

"Night of blood," Ash says, considering this. "That doesn't sound good."

"He got the idea from 'Halloween Three: Season of the Witch'," Spielberg explains. 

"The demon," Ash says incredulously. "Got his idea from a movie. Not even an original movie, a sequel. You know how bad most movies get by the time they get to the third installment?"

"Demons take evil concepts wherever they can get em," Spielberg replies. "Humans have much better imaginations than they do. In the movie, a deranged toy maker creates Halloween masks that will kill the children wearing them when they receive a signal being sent on television sets, as part of a planned Druidic blood sacrifice."

"Signal sent on television sets?" Ash asks. "As in, 'Secrets of Star Wars'?"

"That's half of it," Spielberg replies. "See, George has broken the spell into two components. The first is hidden in the movie itself, as part of dialogue recited by the character Watto... sounds like gibberish, but it's actually ancient Sumerian spells. Then, a week later, when he broadcasts the Fox special, it includes a subliminal message that contains the remainder of the spell. Unless you're wearing specially designed sunglasses to block that part of the spectrum, the subliminals go into your brain and form the remainder of the spell you've already subconsciously absorbed. Once the spell is cast in its entirety, you go into convulsions, your veins rupture 'Scanners' style, and you burst into flames."

"Charming. So why doesn't Lucas include this spell in its entirety in the movie to begin with?" Ash asks, leaning forward in his seat.

"Because then he'd only get the opening matinee audiences," Spielberg explains. "This way, he'll implant the first half of the spell in everyone's minds the first week, and then at the start of the second week, by which time most everyone will have seen the movie at least once, blammo, the rest of the spell comes along. Millions of viewers die horrible deaths, and knowing the average Star Wars fan, that'll involve a lot of virgin sacrifices, which demons like even more."

FADE OUT.

.

ACT TWO

FADE IN

on a gated community, somewhere in the mountains of California. Armed guards pace the wall's perimeter, keeping an eye on the goings-on below. The sign outside the wall identifies it as "Blue Harvest Development". In reality, it is Skywalker Ranch, home of arguably the most evil man in show business, George Lucas.

Lucas paces by a window in a charming, faux-Colonial house looking down on a tranquil lake. "Does anyone have ANY idea where he is?" he hisses. "He doesn't usually miss one of our 'bull sessions'... It's as if he might know what we're really up to."

Ron Howard, Martin Scorsese and Brian DePalma shake their heads no.

"To be honest, George, I've never understood why you let Spielberg get so close to this," Brian DePalma says. "He's not one of the coven, he's a decent, good-hearted man, and... oh, he just makes me sick."

"He makes us all sick, Brian," Lucas replies. "Friggin' goodie two-shoes."

"Then why didn't you kill him back when we first started this scheme with the demon Karzza?" DePalma asks.

Lucas spins on him, eyes flaring. "Have I ever mentioned how much I DON'T appreciate being second-guessed, you pissant lackey?"

DePalma sputters.

"I find your lack of faith... disturbing..." Lucas adds.

DePalma backs up, whimpering.

"When was YOUR last hit, anyhow?" Lucas asks slyly, crossing his arms. "But you must understand this about Steven Spielberg... he is noble and kind and true, everything we hold reviled. And, as a great man once said, you should always hold your friends close, but hold your enemies closer...."

Lucas turns back to the window.

Ron Howard leans over to Martin Scorsese.

"Great man?" Howard whispers.

"I think it was in a Star Trek movie or something," Scorsese replies.

CUT TO:

The perimeter of Skywalker Ranch.

Two figures dart through the darkness, clad in black and wearing toboggans. At the lead is Steven Spielberg, and behind him, Ash Williams with a large duffel bag slung over his back.

"Looks like a big place," Ash whispers. "Any idea where the master tape might be hidden?"

"Knowing George, it's in one of the residential buildings," Spielberg replies. "Now comes the trickiest part of this scheme. We have to get to the gate despite security monitors, overpower or trick the guards, take their uniforms, and get inside the complex itself."

TITLE CARD: "One tricky part of the scheme later...."

Sirens blare. Spielberg and Ash, now clad in security guard uniforms, hold their hands high in surrender as they are surrounded by Uzi-wielding soldiers and barking dogs. Several guards frisk the duo.

The soldiers part far enough for George Lucas to walk up, hands behind his back, contemplative. "Well, Stevey, I was wondering where you'd gotten to," he says. "I have to admit, your secretive entry into my compound was nothing short of brilliant. Pity for you, I have security measures I never even told YOU about."

"I can't take all the credit," Spielberg says weakly.

Lucas snaps his fingers. "Guards, take them to the Victorian house. I'll deal with them personally."

CUT TO:

A few moments later, Ash and Spielberg stand under a glistening chandelier in the foyer of a stately Victorian-style home, hands on the backs of their heads as they are frisked again by security guards.

"You frisk me one more time, and you'll have to get me drunk first," Ash says.

George Lucas strides into the room, having changed clothes... instead of his red plaid shirt and blue jeans, he now wears a blue plaid shirt and blue jeans.

"Gentlemen, what have we found?" Lucas asks.

One of the guards hands over the duffel bag. Lucas looks inside it curiously. "Planning to cut some lumber, were we?" he asks, pulling out Ash's chainsaw.

"Yeah, that's it," Ash replies, "So if you'd be so kind as to hand it over, I'll go saw some logs."

Lucas's eyes narrow. "I do like the one-handed look, by the way," he says, motioning to Ash's mechanical hand. "I gave my character Luke that very look in 'The Empire Strikes Back', you know..."

"That the one with the teddy bears?" Ash asks.

Lucas glowers. "Not funny, not funny at all, mister... ? I don't believe I caught your name..."

"I don't believe I threw it," Ash replies. "Ashley J. Williams."

"He's a demon slayer, you black-hearted fiend," Spielberg says. "He'll thwart your vile scheme and hand that demon Karzza's head back to you on a platter."

"True, Karzza isn't the most powerful of demons," Lucas says, "though that will change after the blood sacrifice I will make to him in two weeks' time!"

"Have you learned NOTHING from our years of cinema, old friend?" Spielberg asks. "Good, in the end, always triumphs over evil!"

"All a fiction, chum, all a fict---"

"DO YOU TWO MIND???" Ash interrupts.

Both men turn to him.

"Look, Lucas, I expect you've never heard of me," Ash says, "but trust me on this, I'm unstoppable. You don't want me to kick your lumberjack-clothed ass all the way back to... wherever the hell you come from in the first place, do you?"

"Don't want it?" Lucas asks, flinging the chainsaw in Ash's direction. "I look forward to it."

Ash defty catches the chainsaw, and arches an eyebrow quizzically. 

"You're playing with the big boys now, Mister Williams," Lucas sneers.

Ash quickly straps the chainsaw on in place of his mechanical hand.

"What kind of trick is this?" Spielberg asks.

Lucas chuckles and reaches behind his back. "You might say, it's on old Jedi Mind Trick."

With that, Lucas holds up a flashlight-shaped object. There is a buzz and a crackle in the air as a beam of light emerges from it, roughly one meter long and glowing pale red.

"A real light saber?" Spielberg asks.

"You don't think I'd spend this much money on research and development without finding some REAL technology along the way, do you?" Lucas asks with a nasty chortle.

Ash's chainsaw buzzes to life, and he and Lucas circle one another, weapons ready. Ash lunges forward, and Lucas dodges. Then, Lucas swings his sword, and Ash parries with his chainsaw... the top of the blade of which is sliced through like melted butter.

The chain left on the saw flicks out of control, jamming in the motor of the contraption.

"Okay, that might be a problem," Ash says, flinging the chainsaw off and putting his mechanical hand back on.

He and Spielberg dive behind chairs as Lucas swings his light saber, trying desperately to kill them both.

The doors open, and Martin Scorsese steps in. "You killed those two yet, Geo--" he starts, then gulps as Ash grabs him by the arms.

Lucas turns as Ash spins Scorsese around, using him as a human shield.

"You want us, you'll have to get through--" Ash starts, trailing off when Lucas swings his light saber, neatly slicing Scorsese in half, vertical-wise.

The two halves fall to the floor with the appropriate squishy noises.

"-- him...." Ash says.

Lucas chuckles.

"Given in to the dark side, you have," Spielberg says.

"Dark side, shmark side," Lucas replies, turning his blade in his old friend's direction. "You ever wonder why everyone thinks Darth Vader and Boba Fett are so much cooler than the heroic characters?"

"Because you're a lame-ass writer who hired talentless hacks like Mark Hamill and Carrie Fisher?" Ash suggests.

"Because deep down, everyone WANTS to be evil," Lucas hisses, lunging at Ash. 

Ash rolls to one side, reaching out and grabbing a leg of a chair. He flings it at Lucas, who neatly slices it in two with his light saber.

"You know, I never looked at it that way," Ash says as he throws lamps, books, and whatever he can grab in Lucas's direction. "Tell ya what, Mister Lucas, I'll turn evil and we can rule the world together, whaddaya say?"

"Sarcasm won't help you," Lucas sneers.

"Won't hurt," Ash replies.

"Everybody, freeze!" Brian DePalma yells. 

They turn to see him holding a laser pistol.

"Brian, what are you doing?" Lucas asks impatiently. "I was having fun here..."

"Let me kill them, please?" DePalma asks. "Especially Steve. I've always had a bug up my ass about that guy."

Lucas slices through the laser pistol.

DePalma gasps.

"First off, that's not a real weapon, it's one of the props," Lucas says. "Why do you think I arm my guards with Uzis, for God's sake? Second off..." Lucas swings the saber again, cutting DePalma's head off.

"...I always did resent the way you made fun of the first Star Wars," Lucas says.

Using Lucas's momentary distraction, Ash leaps up, using a coffee table as a springboard to grab hold of the chandelier. He swings in Lucas's direction, tackling the man.

The light saber rolls off to one side, shutting off once Lucas is no longer gripping its handle.

The two men wrestle, each trying to get hold of the saber.

Finally, George grabs it... and Ash slugs him with his mechanical hand just as he switches it on. Lucas falls face-forward, impaling himself on his own light saber beam.

Ash sits up, rubbing the back of his head. "You know, I figured him for the glass jaw type."

CUT TO:

The main lobby of the special effects warehouse at Skywalker Ranch.

Steven Spielberg strides up to Ash Williams, cell phone in hand. "I called Fox," he says, "They don't have the master tape. And I told 'em there were copyright violations, so if they ever do find it they'll never show the damned thing."

"Then it must be here somewhere," Ash says. "What'll you do?"

Spielberg shrugs. "I guess the best tactic is to take over the ranch, claiming that George was burned out from working so hard lately," he says. "Everyone knows he and I are thick as thieves, they won't question me taking control for awhile. I'll search this place top to bottom til I find that tape."

"But what about the people who get exposed to part of the spell when they see that damned movie?" Ash asks.

"As long as they don't see the second half of the spell... and from what I was able to learn, it's only on that master tape... it'll be fine," Spielberg replies.

Ash and Spielberg shake hands. "You know, you really didn't need to call me in on this," Ash says. "Didn't even get to fight that demon."

"Maybe next time," Spielberg says with a grin.

EPILOGUE

Six Months Later

At a sci-fi convention, two fanboys mill about in the dealers room.

One is a lanky blond boy, 21, with a Boba Fett t-shirt and torn jeans. the other is 19 and has short brown hair, hornrimmed glasses, and a shirt buttoned up to the top button.

They pause at a booth with dozens of bootleg videotapes.

"Hey, cool, Cemetary Man," the blond boy says.

"The complete series run of Get a Life!" the brunette boy says. "Too bad they're so expensive."

"You want to know what we're having a sale on?" the bearded, baseball cap-wearing vendor asks, motioning to one spot on the table.

The boys look down at a row of tapes marked 'Secrets of the Phantom Menace', with a "Sale $10" sign beside them.

"Isn't that the special they were gonna show back in the summer?" the blond boy asks. "But they couldn't find the tape, and since George Lucas still hasn't come back from his sabbatical in Tibet no one knows where it got to?"

"Something like that," the vendor says.

"I'll take it!" The brunette kid says, handing over a $10 bill.

The blond boy starts to do the same, then pauses. "Say, aren't you Ron Howard?"

The vendor pulls the brim of his cap down a notch. "Don't be silly, why would I be selling videos at a convention if I was?" he asks uncomfortably. "I get that a lot. People also say I look like John Boy."

The blond kid shrugs and takes his copy of the video. "Thanks, mister!"

"No problem," the vendor says as the two walk off. "I guarantee, it'll blow you away..."

FADE OUT.

END CREDITS ROLL.

Note: any insinuation that George Lucas is in fact a demonically evil man in league with the forces of Satan is purely for satirical purposes, and there is no need for a squadron of thugs with Lucasfilm jackets to bust down Omar's front door and beat the crap out of him.

Note 2: Earlier installments of Omar's "Evil Dead: The Series" fanfic can be found at www.bbtel.com/~michelle/omarsnake.html


End file.
